Again
by dark-nexus17
Summary: Erik visits Charles in order to rage about his old friend's naivety, but things do not go according to plan. Set within a year after first class. M for safety. Slash, Charles/Erik.


**Title: Again**

**Pairings: Charles/Erik**

**Warnings: Mentioned slash, slight current slash, mentions of murder, angry Erik, broken Charles, lots of Angst.**

**Summary: Erik visits Charles in order to rage about his old friend's naivety, but things do not go according to plan. Set within a year after the end of that damn beach scene.**

**Disclaimer: Why would I be writing random angsty fics if I owned first class? **

**A/N: After the lovely and unexpected response to my last fic, I felt I should write another one, because a: I love first class, b: I love writing, and c: if this brings anyone anywhere near the joy I get from reading other peoples fics that are far, far superior to mine, then I might as well give it a bash. Other fics based on this song may follow afterwards, depending on how much angst I can generate. Usually I'm quite a fluffy kind of girl, but with these two, I seem to want to continuously spew out copious amounts of angst.**

_I love the way that your heart breaks  
>with every injustice and deadly fate<br>Praying it all be new  
>and living like it all depends on you<em>

_Here you are down on your knees again  
>trying to find air to breathe again<br>And only surrender will help you now  
>I love you please see and believe again – Flyleaf- Again <em>

Erik paced in his room, restless, even after his long, exhausting day. Two months ago, the Brotherhood had discovered that a group within the CIA – including that damned MacTaggart woman – were formulating a mutant registration law, and today, they had finally succeeded in taking out two of its key members, effectively destroying their leadership and therefore, the group. Erik would have liked to wipe out the entire group, but Charles had showed up, and he had ruined everything. He was lucky Erik hadn't ripped him to shreds in a blind rage.

He had however, managed to wound Charles by telling him as he and his followers left, what the group had been planning to do. Erik had tried to warn Charles. This was how it started. Registration. It ended with those who were being persecuted being locked up, brutally murdered and experimented on; he would not live through another holocaust. He had relished the look of shock and hurt on Charles' face before disappearing. What had he expected? Was he still so naive? Why did he constantly defend the humans, even when he knew they would destroy him and his precious students? His tireless efforts towards peace and cooperation were futile.

These thoughts continued to rattle round his brain as he paced the room, growing more agitated by the minute. Charles was not stupid, he knew that as well as he knew his own name, and therefore, he would surely respond to logical reasoning. Eventually, he could stand the clamour of his thoughts no longer. Barely pausing to think about what he was about to do, still brimming with rage and disbelief, he strode out of his room and quickly located Azazel. Seconds later he was ten miles away from the Xavier mansion; not close enough for Azazel to guess where the house might be, but close enough. He dismissed his suspicious follower, telling him only that he would contact Emma when he had fulfilled his mission. When his red demon had left, Erik reached out with his mind to a suitable piece of metal, and levitated himself towards the house.

He flung open the doors to Charles' bedroom, where he knew his old friend would be waiting, still awake with only his thoughts and insomnia for company. He floated down, entered the room and slammed the doors behind him, shattering the glass: he didn't care. His mind was filled with white-hot outrage at Charles' continuing naivety and refusal to let go of his ridiculous hopes. He stopped dead in his track when he saw Charles, out of his wheelchair, collapsed against the side of his bed, resting weakly on his unfeeling knees. Charles looked up, and it seemed to Erik that the pain and sorrow of everyone in the world was reflected in Charles' wide blue eyes, which were overflowing with tears that left salty tracks down his cheeks.

'Erik,' Charles whispered brokenly, 'how nice of you to visit.'

This was not how things were supposed to go, Erik had wanted Charles strong and arrogant, ready to debate and defend his point with all of his Oxford-crafted eloquence. He had wanted Charles to feed his anger, his burning desire to overpower Charles' ideals and replace them with his own. As it was, Erik's anger drained away as he gazed into Charles' eyes, the pain and anguish there sucking him into a black hole, leaving him cold and empty.

'Charles?' he replied, uncertainly,

'All their thoughts in my head Erik,' Charles whimpered, 'I can't breathe.' And he collapsed suddenly, his upper body falling almost gracefully onto the carpet.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Charles' mind was in agony, he felt as though the thoughts and feelings of everyone within at least a twenty mile radius were pressing into his brain, crushing it as they flowed through his veins and carved themselves into the soft tissue of his mind. They were suffocating him, and he let them; his defences as broken as his legs were useless. Memories from that day also raced through his mind, leaving their own bloody paths in their wake. Erik, killing humans ruthlessly, Erik, smirking at him as he revealed what the humans had been planning to do. He'd barely made it back to the mansion and into his room: he hadn't wanted to collapse in front of the children. Now he felt every part of their pain, and that, mingled with his own, was far too much to bear. As he looked into Erik's achingly familiar eyes, he could take it no longer, his breathing became increasingly erratic and he mercifully lost consciousness.

Xxxxxxxxxx

When he awoke, the clamour of thoughts had died down somewhat, and he was laid out on his bed. Momentarily confused by this, Charles sat up too quickly and then slumped back down as a wave of dizziness enveloped him; threatening to send him spinning back into blackness. He spotted Erik in the chair to the left of his bed and grimaced. Erik, who had been studying him carefully, noticed this, and his eyes clouded over.

'Is my presence so repulsive to you Charles?' he enquired, a twisted smirk taking up residence on his face.

Charles merely turned his face away from Erik in reply. After a tense silence Charles whispered,

'Why did you kill them Erik? I could have wiped the idea from their minds, made it so that none of them ever thought about it ever again; there was no need to _kill_ them.'

'There was every need Charles. Your tactic may have been temporarily effective, but they will have told other colleagues of their plan, and you can't wipe everyone's mind. The deaths of their leaders taught them a lesson; one that they need to learn quickly if they do not wish to follow their colleagues to an early grave.'

Charles shuddered, another few minutes passed, and Erik felt as though he may have finally made Charles see sense. Just as he was contemplating how best to continue this line of conversation he heard Charles voice again, barely audible.

'I give up.'

For the second time in less than an hour Erik froze, a chill that was nothing to do with temperature stealing over him. He did not want Charles to give in; he wanted him to be converted, to be as zealous as he was in believing in and acting upon his ideals.

'What do you mean?' Erik finally answered.

Charles turned to face his friend; his face deathly pale and his eyes dead.

'I can't do this anymore Erik, I cannot be the hope the children need, the rock that they rely on. I cannot continue to have the whole world's hopes resting upon my shoulders. I cannot run this school as a mentor, a teacher. I give up.' He said, his voice a dull monotone.

Erik stared blankly at him; he had never seen Charles in such complete and utter despair. The hope, the light that he himself had relied on, _still _relied on had been extinguished, and a dead blankness had replaced the joy and happiness that was once always on Charles face. Charles had always believed in people, even people like himself, who were damaged beyond repair. He gave people hope and safety and comfort. Erik knew that he had destroyed Charles' ability to walk, but now, he felt tears slide down his face of their own accord because he had destroyed what made Charles _Charles, _and had reduced him to a lifeless husk.

Charles was still facing him, he had his eyes closed and it seemed to Erik for a moment, as though he may have given up on life as well as his ideals. Erik stood up abruptly and crossed the room to stand at Charles side and shake his friend.

'Charles,' he said loudly, still shaking him.

Charles remained where he was, but opened his eyes and sighed. Erik was not having this, this ridiculous passiveness.

'Get up.' Erik growled, 'Get up now Charles and stop this nonsense.'

'Why Erik?' Charles replied bitterly 'This is what you have always wanted. Me giving in, giving up the fight, so you could have your way and exact your revenge upon mankind.'

Erik stepped back as though he had been burnt. He fell to his knees and grasped Charles hands in his own.

'Please Charles,' he said, 'I never waned you to become like this, there are people depending on you; children who look to you for guidance.'

Charles flinched slightly at the mention of the children, but remained silent and unmoving.

'And I,' Erik whispered, 'I don't know what I would do without you to ground me.'

Charles let out a bitter laugh.

'Oh my friend, you do not mean that.' He said, shaking his head.

Erik let go of Charles' hands to reach up and tug the helmet he was still wearing off his head, tossing it onto the floor.

'Don't I?' he replied, lifting one of Charles' limp hands to his face.

Charles waited for a moment, shocked that Erik had removed all defences against him, and then entered his mind. He was immediately overwhelmed by a flood of images, him and Erik, training the children, him and Erik playing chess, him and Erik combining their powers in order to move the satellite dish, him and Erik kissing, him comforting Erik after a nightmare, Erik stroking his hair after hours of love-making. Then him telling the children everything would be okay, him encouraging the children, encouraging Erik and finally, an overwhelming sense of love and faith that was radiating from Erik, directed at himself.

'I need you to believe in the world for me Charles,' Erik said softly, 'because I will never be able to.'

**A/N: As always reviews are not mandatory, but greatly appreciated if you feel inclined to give one.**


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